It's All Up In The Stars
by RavenWinchester
Summary: James doesn't know what he's getting himself into the day he meets his brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. This web becomes even more tangled when a few ill-fated encounters bring three others- Kendall, Carlos and Logan-into the picture. Trigger Warning: Death.
1. Chapter 1

**_AN: Wow, So this is my first story on fanfiction! I hope you enjoy_**

On July 16th, 1990. Susan Mason gave birth to a beautiful baby boy with hazel eyes, James.

The father was a man by the name of John Winchester. Neither Susan, James – nor anyone else in the town for that matter – knew much about John, except for his occupation, he was a war veteran that now worked as a mechanic. That's all they knew. Then, after ten years of absence, John started visiting him. Even then, the visits were few and far between. John always had "special jobs outside of town." Even at his young, supposedly naïve age, James suspected infidelity. He'd never speak up to his mother about it for he was far too shy. But even if he wasn't, Susan never seemed to care. Or maybe she preferred ignorance over knowing the truth. John always tried to make the most out of his short visits, whether they lasted a few days or a few hours. He'd take James to sporting events every once in a while, play catch in their backyard.

When he turned ten, John gave him a necklace. It was silver, a pendant of a glowing sun engraved with a star. It was one of the only things his father ever gave him and he cherished it. It never left his sight. He wore the necklace when he went swimming in the old pond a mile from his house. He wore it to sleep and to every single prom. He wore it when his father started taking him camping.

They would track animals and hunt; not deer, but small things like rabbits and beaver. James never had the heart to kill Bambi. "Pay attention, this might be useful one day." His father would always say. Habitually, he nodded, though he never truly understood. _"When would I ever need to know how to use a gun? Or track animals? Or start a fire?"_ he thought to himself striking flint against steel. That night, they roasted hot dogs, made s'mores and fell asleep under the stars.

By Monday, John was gone.

He told James he had "business" to attend to back at home and he might now be back for a while. "Happy sixteenth birthday, James." Was the last thing he said to him. Giving him a pocket knife into which his initials and that same odd symbol were carved.

Then four days passed, James tried calling again.

"Who is this and how did you get this number?" an unfamiliar voice on the other end asked.

"D-dad?" James hesitated unsure if the voice was the one he'd known for 6 years.

The voice laughed. "Oh, dude. I think you have the wrong number."

"No no I'm calling for John Winchester and this is his number. W-why do you have his phone?" A glimmer of understanding showed on James's face. "Wait." He giggled. "Is this a joke? Is this his other mechanic friend?" John had told him about these two younger guys he worked with. Their names were on the tip of his tongue. "Sal and…" he scratched the back of his head as he tried to conjure up those two names from somewhere deep in his memory. "S-Sam." he grinned. "Sam and Dean, that's it. Is this Sam or Dean?"

"Oh, mechanic," The man chuckled but James didn't get the joke.

"Look, can you put him on the phone." James impatience was growing. "P-please?" he added timidly, taking back his demanding tone.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, man. But, John died of...a heart attack yesterday." The brunette could hear the mechanic sigh.

"Wh-" was all James could muster. "No. But-I just talked to him a few days ago." This time it was his voice that faltered.

"Heart attacks can come unexpectedly." The voice said.

This couldn't be real. His father... Is gone? "N-no...This isn't happening." his voice shook as his eyes began to brim with tears. "I just talked to him. This is a sick sick joke. L-look I don't know who you are. But-"

"I'm not lying man." the voice on the other end said incredulously. "Why do you care so much about John?"

"This is James Winchester," He sobbed. "His son," The brunette had to take a deep breath. "N-now put him on the phone…plea-now."

Then the line went dead.

Dean took all the usual precautions hanging up the phone on what he figured was either a demon or a vengeful spirit playing with their vulnerabilities.

Or maybe he was just going crazy. There was always that possibility

His thoughts were interrupted by the shrill ring of one of his dad's many phones. "Is this thing trying to get killed or just plain stupid?" Dean said to his brother. "He says he's dad's son." The older brunette put James on speaker.

"W-why'd you hang up on m-"

"Hey, Mr. Winchester, why don't we meet up? We can discuss your…father." Sam interrupted.

"Um…but, this isn't the same voice." James said uneasily.

"Yeah this is John's_ other_ mechanic friend, Sam. How about the three of us meet up, okay?" he repeated softly, consoling the sobbing boy. "Where are you right now?""

"I live in Eire."

"Good that's only an hour away. How about we meet in the middle? American Diner? We'll buy you lunch."

"I-I guess that's okay…" James mumbled, sniffling.

"Great. See you at one."

**_AN: So, what did you think? Good? Write more? Don't ever write again? If I get positive feedback, I'll be more than happy to publish the rest of what I've written so far._**


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Wow. Cool. Chapter 2. Let's get this show on the road. Oh, before the story begins, I'd like to thank my beta, Arcadia aka cellyjelly on fanfiction. And my consultant for this chapter, Lania. Alright. Action.

It's interesting the contrast in their routines.

James takes a long hot shower.

Sam and Dean take short showers, using the limited hot water their current motel offers.

James can open his closet, scanning over a wide selection of clothes.

While Sam opens his suitcase, slipping on the first thing he can find, Dean puts on what seems like a pretty clean shirt thrown haphazardly across the room.

As James grabs his wallet and phone, Sam and Dean are making preparations.

A flask of holy water, extra salt, utensils made of pure silver. Their everyday essentials. They leave their motel heading to the diner, their knives concealed in their jackets.

When they arrive at the diner 30 minutes later, the brothers' plan is simple: See if he's a supernatural being. When they prove he is, gank him; Simple as that.

"They're making it way to easy these days. It even gave us a head start." The younger brother chuckled, looking at the time. James still wasn't here. He replaced the cheap aluminum utensils with the silver and poured holy water into James' glass.

Right when Dean replaced the flask's cap, the bells above the diner's door jingled, letting Sam and Dean know he'd arrived.

The boy looked like he was somewhere in his teens. Maybe 15, 16. He was thin and tall with long brown hair, kind of like Sam's. Long bangs were swept to the side so his hazel eyes could be clearly seen. Those eyes were acentuated by long, thick eyelashes. With his small lips and heart shaped face, he almost gave the impression of being a girl. Pretty was a better word.

"I didn't know he was a kid." Sam muttered. The man's eyes darted from the boy back to Dean.

"I didn't know either, man. I feel like Chris Hansen is going to waltz in here with a damn camera crew." Dean said quickly before waving to the brunette in the doorway.

"Hey there, James! Have a seat."

James waved to the two men sitting next to each other in the booth. He had the feeling that they'd just finished a conversation they didn't want him to hear.

"H-hi." He stuck out his hand toward the taller one first, keeping his eyes down. "…Dean?" He guessed softly, shaking his hand. He tried to hide the fact that the mechanics grip was far too tight. "Um, no I'm Sam." He chuckled, making James' face flush from his mistake. "Oh. S-sorry. So you're Dean." From what his dad told him, Dean was his favorite. He shook his hand next, wincing at Dean's grip. "Y-you guys have really tight grips." He murmured before sitting down across from the two. "So…" James said after an extended silence. "You guys were good friends of d-" He trailed off, not fully able to use the d-word.

Both older men recoiled a bit when James almost called John his dad. "Yes, we were very close with John." Sam nodded, keeping his gaze calm, gentle. But, under Dean's watch, James felt like a witness being called to the stand.

James let out a shaky breath. "I h-had just been with him this weekend."

"Really?" Dean sniped, annoyed by the complexity of this creature's charade. Sam kicked him under the table for his tone. "What did you guys do?" Sam interrupted, as Dean was too busy hissing in pain.

"It was my birthday so we went camping, hiking, hunting." His voice was distant as he kept his eyes down, twirling his father's necklace between his fingers, remembering all the trips they took; plans they made that would never happen now. "It's all my fault," the boy whispered, mostly to himself. Maybe if John stayed with James, he wouldn't have had that heart attack; or at least not so soon.

The small piece of metal dancing in and out of the brothers' view caught their eye. "Hey, where'd you get that?" Dean's eyebrows furrowed as he sat up, slowly reaching for the knife hidden in his jacket.

"It was his," James nodded with a glazed expression. "I never take it off."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, both of confusion.

Hesitant hands hovered over knives when James reached for the glass of holy water. Like a lion waiting to pounce, Sam and Dean watched James bring the glass up to his lips. An exasperated sigh fell from the younger brother's lips when they realized it had no effect.

James meekly raised an eyebrow. "W-um-what did I do?" he noticed the disappointed looks on their faces.

"Nothing, nothing. Excuse me. Dean and I need to talk for a minute." He flashed a fake a smile and pulled his brother out of the booth.

"It didn't work." Dean stated when they were far enough away to not be heard.

"Oh, really? I thought it went swimmingly." Sam deadpanned.

"We need to find out what this is. Any reading on the EMF?" Dean scratched his head.

"None."

"So, what could it be? Our brother?" Dean chuckled.

"_Dean-" _Sam said softly

Dean put his hands up in defense, smirking. "Hey, Sammy, we don't know what dad was doing when he traveled-"

"Dean, dad sex is not what I want to think about right now," Sam rubbed his temples as if that would rid the image from his mind.

"I say we ask him some more questions. Find out if this kid really could be our 'brother.'" Dean emphasized brother with air quotes.

"Dean, I don't know if we should hound him with questions like this. He seems pretty broken up."

"Oh, how do you know? Tiny Tim has _barely_ said a word." he huffed.

"That's because the kid is shy as hell! Did you notice he hasn't even looked either of us in the eye yet? Or how about the fact that his eyes are bloodshot. That he can't say the word dad" The simple plan they laid out before coming here didn't seem so simple anymore.

Dean groaned. "Look, Whatever this…_thing_ is has already gotten into your brain. It's making you feel sorry for it and then-Bam! It'll attack you! For added effect, the older brother made claws with his hands.

They were both still skeptical. Sam's skepticism was clouded by sympathy for this fragile boy who now seemed even more broken by the loss of his father.'

"Emotion that raw can't be faked, can it?"

Dean rolled his eyes, the younger brother was different. He was determined. He _knew_ his father. There's no way he could keep a secret this big from them, from everyone, right?

When the brothers returned, James was fiddling with the silverware; _their_ silverware. The possibility that he wasn't their brother faded even more in Sam's mind.

Sam sat next to James, awkwardly wrapping an arm around the lanky sixteen year old whose face was red from tears he was struggling to hold in. Sam's forever sympathetic attitude didn't go unnoticed by Dean, earning a eye roll from his younger brother.

"James, it's okay to cry if you need to." Sam murmured.

James bit his lip, resting his head on Sam's shoulder. He felt foolish being held by the older man.

_You're sixteen. You better not cry. You're better than this. No, this man doesn't even deserve your tears. He wasn't even there most of the time, He only decided to show up when you where ten! I was lucky if he got to see him more than once every two months. What did we even have in common? Huning? Baseball? Fishing? Those were all his ideas. Did he ever think about what you wanted to do? What music you wanted to listen to? No, he did whatever the hell he wanted and dragged you along for the ride. Where the hell was he for ten goddamn years? 'Buisnesstrips.' He probably has a whole 'nother family, cheating with some other bitch. Giving another kid presents telling him that he loved him and he'd see him soon. He left us alone._

James fists clenched, his jaw tightened. Abstracted by his own thoughts, James didn't feel hot angry tears falling from his face. Dean hadn't noticed Sam holding the crying teenager, his head buried in the menu, searching for pie.

"So, James. Do you have any pictures of you and John?" Dean questioned from behind the menu.

"Dean," Sam spat, jerking his brother's attention from the menu to him and the teenager wiping tears from his eyes. Eyes widening, he looked at Sam, to James back to Sam again. The younger nodded cursorily, mirroring Dean's expression.

_What's happening?_ Dean mouthed. The younger brother could find no explanation as to why the boy was crying, unless it was to pull Sam in. If that was the case, the monster's plan was going perfectly.

_I don't know._ Sam mouthed back. It was natural instinct for him to be the one to console a person in despair. He didn't why he did; that's just who he was.

James lifted his head from Sam's tear soaked shoulder, nodded and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. He didn't know why the pictures were so important, but he wasn't one to ask questions. After all, two grown men twice the teenager's size did manage to easily coax him into coming to a diner with them; alone. He wasn't the most cynical of people.

Dean and Sam gave each other yet another quick glance. Both because they didn't expect him to disagree.

As the boy searched through his phone, something even scarier than him being a monster was slowly creeping into Dean's mind.

What if this kid was actually their brother?

"These are from this weekend. This is us hiking." He opened a picture of the two; dirty, hair disheveled but still grinning.

Sam looked down at James. His eyebrows scrunched when he noticed the similarities in their faces. "Here, we're hunting-"

Dean's jaw dropped slightly, Sam's tensed, his eyes changing from narrow to wide.

"…Rabbits…" James said slowly, not understanding the brothers' reactions. "Anyway" he shook his head and moved onto the next picture. "My tenth birthday; that's where this came from." The brunette ran his finger across the necklace's engraving as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Running a hand though his long hair, he sighed.

_For James' tenth birthday, John and he went to a baseball game. With hotdogs, sodas and popcorn in hand, they found their seats. John's eyes were glued to the game as were James'. But the boy also had something else on his mind. "Dad, w-when do I get my present?" James asked for the fourth time as a player on the opposing team rounded second base. _

"_Alright alright," John chuckled, pulling out a box from his jacket pocket. The box was small, about the size of his fist, and wrapped in newspaper, which James anxiously discarded._

"_Whoa," the birthday boy whispered, pulling out the pendant he now never took off. "This is so cool! It's just like your tattoo!" he grinned looking up at his father who was beaming as much as he was. James wrapped his arms around his father, hugging him tight, "Thanks, dad."_

"_You're welcome, James."_

"_Hey, dad?" James pulled away, looking up at him. "When can I get a tattoo like yours?" He pointed to the place where under his baseball shirt, the same symbol engraved on his necklace was._

"_Talk to me when you're sixteen, son."_

_And he did._

James blinked away further tears as he told them the story, pulling his shirt down to show them the tattoo on his chest.

Like the ice in their glasses, Dean's skepticism melted away while the faith in Sam's heart multiplied.

The brothers looked at each other at the same time, both nodding hesitantly, able to communicate with each other without a single word falling from their lips.

"James…" Sam removed the arm wrapped around the teenager.

They both exchanged one last glance before pulling down the neck of their shirts as well.

Sam sighed, "James, we're not mechanics."

AN: KJADSHDK this chapter was a blast to write. Hope you enjoyed it!


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